


Desperate

by DandelionLass



Series: Desperate [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Adultery, Age Difference, Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:58:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandelionLass/pseuds/DandelionLass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Motherhood is not quite what Katniss thought it would be, but the new neighbor boy gives her some much needed distraction. Written for Prompts in Panem on Tumblr Round 7, Day 7: Thorns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate

**Author's Note:**

> Many hugs and thanks to my beautiful beta, myusernamehere, and charming cheerleader prereader, Chele20035. Please let me know what y'all think!

There's a reason you rarely see Irish triplets. After giving birth twice in a year, a sane woman will do anything humanly possible to avoid it happening again that quickly. That is a mistake you only make once. I did, and now I'm stuck paying for it. 

I'm never alone, but I feel so isolated. Starved for attention but never ignored. I can't catch my breath. I'm drowning. Suffocating. 

For once I want to be free again. Thoughtfully listened to, not screamed at and not with my opinion disregarded. Lovingly caressed, not jumped on or trampled or just expected to perform out of duty. Respected not treated as the hired help. I want to be a woman again, not only a mother. 

This is why I stare.

I ogle and galk. Imagine and fantasize. Incessantly, I daydream of the neighbor boy that mows our yard every week. His blue bonnet eyes, haphazard blond curls, and broad back that ripples and glistens from exertion are what get me through my chaotic days with two Tasmanian devils. 

They’re both two years old, that is until Archer's birthday in a month. Don't get me wrong. I love both my dark-haired, gray-eyed little boys with all my heart and would not send them back now even if I could. But some days, I doubt that I would do it all again, willingly, had I known what my life at 27 would currently be like. The word that comes to mind is pandemonium.

My life is a constant mutiny of happy squeals and perturbed screeches. Mornings filled with cereal and oatmeal projectiles and hours of annoying, sing-song children's programming. Being a human jungle gym and snot rag were not on my bucket list. Maybe if I had family nearby that could help me, or a husband who appreciated my sacrifices, I might feel differently. 

At night, after everyone else finally goes to sleep, I stay up and think about how differently my life would have been. 

If I hadn't caved to our families' pressure and married Gale, I would still be at my dream job instead of across the state while he chases his, working 70 hours a week at the firm. If we had used another form of birth control with the condoms, I might have been able to handle one unruly, overly rambunctious Hawthorne boy instead of two. I could have gone back to my mediocre job, instead of being laid off after the complications of my second pregnancy. 

I don't know how Hazelle did it with her three boys. When I called her in the past, begging for any insight she could give, she told me one thing. 

"Just try to get through it. Things settle down and get better eventually once the boys get older." I don't know how much longer I can last without loosing my sanity. 

That’s why when the neighbor boy comes to the door for his check after mowing this August Saturday afternoon, with a bag of baked goods in hand no less, I choose to invite him in. 

"Mrs. Hawthorne. Hi, I just stopped by to pick up my check and bring the boys and you some cheese buns," Peeta explains with one arm raised; his other hand is rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Oh forget that mess," I chide. "Call me Katniss, please." 

"Ok, Katniss then," he concedes. 

"Why don't you come on in, and I'll get that for you. Can I get you some iced tea or lemonade to cool you off?" He follows me in as I kick toys further out of his path. 

"Tea would be great, thanks." 

I lead him to the couch. "Have a seat, and I'll be right back," I assure him, heading to the kitchen. Once the teas are in hand, I check my reflection in the hallway mirror and send up a prayer of thanks to whoever's listening that I was able to shower after cleaning the house this morning. 

"It's quiet today. So where are Archer and Hunter hiding?" he greets upon my return to the couch. 

"They're off with Gale. His mom and sister drove down to meet them at Sea World for the day. She got a free hotel voucher for donating their old busted ranch truck," I explain, placing the glasses on the coffee table before sitting next to him. I hand him the check which he puts in the pocket of his orange basketball shorts. 

"Wow! That sounds like a lot of fun. What are you doing stuck here?" he asks. If only he knew. This is my first overnight break without Gale and the boy in 6 months. 

"I had a bunch of things to catch up on around here this morning and needed a little break for some alone time." 

"Oh, I see. Well then, I'll let you get back to that," he offers, setting down his now empty tea glass and beginning to rise off the couch to leave.

I reach out and grab his hand. 

"Wait. Don't go," I plead, hoping the tone of my voice doesn't betray my desperation. "This is the first uninterrupted adult conversation I've had in a week." He sits again without resistance, taking my hand and then grasping it in his. The small gesture of sweetness brings more comfort to my frazzled nerves that I can express. 

I look down at our hands clasped on the cushion between us, then up at his face into his blue bonnet eyes. They appear to have darkened in the last few seconds, the intensity of his gaze instantly syphoning all the oxygen out of the small sitting room. His body is turned towards me, inclined to where his face is only two inches from mine. I can smell the musk left by his earlier work, and it sparks a tingling deep in my belly. 

I'm lightheaded and can hear my pulse thumping frantically in my ears. I haven't felt the crackling electricity in the air like this in years. 

And then his lips are on mine. 

He is tentative at first, patiently awaiting my response. I promptly consent, matching each of his movements as our pace and passion increase. 

Fuck yes! I think, an excitement from newness I thought I would never feel again consuming me. My panties are already drenched with desire.

He pulls back for breath after a final bite on my bottom lip, leaving only millimeters between our mouths but keeping our foreheads touching.

"I've thought about you, this, all summer," he confesses. His revelation sends a shiver down my spine. 

"Me too," I admit. "Thinking about you and what you could do to me is the only way I get through my days."

I feel the growl that rumbles from his bare chest at this disclosure, along with my throbbing clit. It spurs me on, and I can no longer take the distance between us anymore. I scramble into his lap, desperate to feel friction, and grind down on his already rock hard erection. The groan he emits is otherworldly. He bucks up to meet my warm center again, and my head lolls back at the glorious contact. 

"I need this," I mewl in his ear before I run my tongue over the shell of it and suck the lobe in my mouth for a second. He shudders. "I need you." 

This declaration must flip a switch in him as he suddenly has me on my back, lying on the couch while he kisses a path down my neck and rotates his hips, cradled between mine. When his trail of kisses becomes impeded, he raises me me up from the cushion and removes my shirt.

My arms immediately fly to my stomach to cover the stretch marks that I've accepted won't go away. Peeta gently moves my arms and whispers, "You're perfect. Please, let me see you." He's looks down at me with awe and more reverence than Gale ever has.

He then frees me from my jeans and cotton bra, immediately seeking out a peaked nipple with his mouth. He caresses the other one with his thumb and palm while he takes his time lightly sucking and soothing the bud with his tongue. I can't take it.

"More. Please, Peeta. I need more," I plead. He happily complies, switching breasts and moving his left hand to palm me through my dripping panties. After that breast has been shown the same attention and my hips are wildly undulating against his hand, Peeta pops my breast from his mouth and burns kisses down my stomach to my panties' cotton edging. 

"I have to taste you. Thinking about my mouth and tongue devouring you is what gets me off at night." He pauses to meet my eyes, eyebrows raised, his chin resting on my needy mound, asking permission. His salacious words paired with the innocent, hopeful look on his face is too much, I can merely nod my approval. 

Then he moves like a man possessed, using the strength of his thick arms to rip off the thin cotton shielding him from his target. I can't remember the last time Gale went down on me, so when the first sweep of his tongue laps at me, I am seconds from coming then and there. He continues his varied ministrations, adding two fingers, curling them inside of me. When he finally takes my clit between his lips and sucks forcefully, I come harder than I have in years. 

I'm still floating when he speaks again.

"Katniss, I need to be inside you." I can't agree fast enough. I untangle my legs from over his shoulders and leap up from the couch and bend over to grab the back of it. When the realization hits him, he jumps up, dropping the basketball shorts and revealing nothing but his magnificent cock beneath them. He positions himself behind me, then presses at my entrance. Suddenly he pulls back, and I deflate.

"I don't have a condom," Peeta gasps out. 

"It's okay. I'm on the pill," I assure him.

Despite the scarcity of sex with Gale, I've stayed on it. I'm so worked up again, I don't even care that we are not using a condom, too.

At this affirmation, without further hesitation, he slams into me up to the hilt and begins a punishing pace. 

Shit, it feels fucking fantastic!

"Fuck, Katniss. You feel amazing. So fucking tight," Peeta grunts out, reciprocating my sentiments. 

He continues his movements, and our moans and the slapping of our slick skin rise around us, filling the otherwise silent room. 

When I feel I'm at the precise again, I call out to him. 

"Peeta, I'm almost there. Please, touch me." 

He obliges, reaching around to the front to furiously rub my clit with new motivation. Seconds later, I come, slumping downward further on the couch. Peeta follows with sporadic thrusts moments later, resting his full weight on my back afterwards. My legs give way, and he slips out as we land on the carpet in a tangle of limbs and fluids. 

After we come down from our orgasmic highs, Peeta gathers me up between his legs, my back resting against his sturdy chest. 

"Where do we go from here? I'm off to Texas A&M at the end of the month," he probes. 

"It doesn't have to go anywhere. You gave me the escape I needed. We both had fun, right?" I try to persuade him. His face visibly falls, and he turns his head away from me. 

"Are you sure?” he asks timidly. “I don't want you to regret this.” 

"I won't," I say, shaking my head. Twisting around and placing my fingers on his cheek, I turn his face back towards mine. Then I lean up to kiss him again.

A month later, I sit on the edge of the tub in shock and disbelief, two blue lines taunting me. I was wrong.


End file.
